


We're Still Here

by kinfic2



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-19
Updated: 2014-12-19
Packaged: 2018-03-02 05:37:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2801540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinfic2/pseuds/kinfic2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short Christmas ficlet - a few years post 513</p>
            </blockquote>





	We're Still Here

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my LJ in 2009

                                                                           [](http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/kinfic2/21159744/70382/70382_original.jpg)                                                                  

 

    “I can’t believe it’s another Christmas!” The words tumble out of my mouth like an avalanche of falling rocks before I can stop them. I really should have a muzzle! Brian hates to be reminded of time charging full steam ahead. What he doesn’t seem to understand is that he’s not the only one affected. It marches on for everyone, but I like to think that somehow, each of us decides the tempo. He turns to me with his usual smirk plastered on his face. He should patent it.  
  
    “ _I_ can’t believe you haven’t found a new script writer after all these years. You really should get your money back, Sunshine.”  
  
     I look at him from the corner of my eye—dark hair a careful mess with morning bedhead firmly in place, unshaved stubble on his chin that softens the sharp angles of his face, hazel eyes still full of sleep. How I love this man, particularly in the morning, knowing I’m the only person to see this side of him, the real Brian Kinney, soft and vulnerable.  
  
     It finally stopped snowing. I love Britin, but I love it most when it snows, when the only sound in the hushed stillness is the crunch of my footsteps trudging to the mailbox and all I can see is a white wonderland. It’s our own personal Snow Palace, with one major difference—the Ice Queen doesn’t live here anymore.  
  
     I was worried that everyone wouldn’t be able to make it because of the weather, but the plows came through twice already and the roads are definitely better. It’s the calm before the storm, before friends and family descend en masse on Britin, before the house is filled with noise and before Brian whispers his yearly cranky mantra, _when the fuck are they all leaving?_   Some things never change.  
  
     But some things do _._ Not only do we acknowledge the holiday now, we actually celebrate it, in our home, with people! There’s a shocker for anyone who knows the Stud of Liberty Avenue.  
  
     After all this time, even _I_ can’t believe we’re still here, still sparring, still fighting and still in love, even though _he’d_ still call it lezzy bullshit.  
  
     Sometimes I wonder—was it the luck of the draw, the flip of a cosmic coin that decided for us? Or was it something more, something deep inside that wouldn’t let us give up and accept defeat. Or maybe it was a combination of many factors. I don’t know. But it really doesn’t matter. The important thing is that, after all these years, we’re celebrating Christmas—together.


End file.
